


Sounds Good to Me

by HamletsProzac



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Crying During Sex, Dirty Talk, Emotional Sex, M/M, SUGAR AND SPICE AND EVERYTHING NICE, a whisper of daddy kink, seriously it's almost all dirty talk, teasing and playful daddy kink, that's what asasuga is made of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 07:19:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10826463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HamletsProzac/pseuds/HamletsProzac
Summary: “I need you to say you know, Asahi,” Suga purrs, fingertips sliding inside the waistband of his boxers.“Know what?” Asahi says desperately. “I don’t know anything right now.”Suga has the audacity to smirk. “I need you to know how fucking amazing I think you are.”





	Sounds Good to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Another prompt from kendershire, another too long emotional fic. It's AsaSuga this time. Her promot was "AsaSuga body worship." It's not quite body worship, but I think it still satisfies the request. 
> 
> CW: smut, brief/light daddy kink, rough sex, "cockslut" and other dirty words
> 
> Please Enjoy ~

“When’s the last time I told you how hot you are?”

Suga’s voice comes from behind him, casual and almost bored. Asahi feels the back of his neck heat up anyway.

“I don’t know,” he replies, going for the same idle tone. “Yesterday, maybe.” He keeps his eyes focused on his hands. Which aren’t exactly pretty under the best of circumstances, but at the moment they’re worse than usual. They’re covered in motor grease from where he’s adjusting his motorcycle. The rest of him isn’t in much better shape – he shies away from Koushi’s gaze, shoulders falling in on themselves as Koushi continues.

“The fact that you don’t remember means that a) you are an idiot, and b) I am not taking care of my hot idiot boyfriend very well.”

Asahi hears Suga shifting and moving closer to him – and then he feels Suga’s clever, slim fingers slide into the back pockets of his pants. He nearly drops the wrench he’s using.

Suga continues on, oblivious to the way Asahi’s face has gotten red and the way he’s completely stopped working. “That being the case: You are extremely hot, especially in these jeans, and _especially_ especially when you’re fixing your stupid motorcycle.”

Asahi manages a laugh around the way Suga’s fingers are squeezing his ass rhythmically. “Is it stupid or is it hot?”

“Just about everything you do is both.”

Asahi squirms away from the feeling of Koushi’s lips pressing into his sweaty back. “Don’t – I’m gross,” he laughs, ribcage squeezing at his heart.

Suga _hmms_. “I _know_ ,” he drawls sensually, rolling his hips suggestively.

Asahi actually does lose his grip on the socket wrench, at that. It just clatters to the ground. Loudly.

“Suga…” he warns. They’re _outside._ They’re practically in the street outside his apartment. He’s _gross._

“ _Asahi,”_ Suga whispers back, slipping one hand around to spread his hand over Asahi’s stomach.

Suga doesn’t take the warning. He never does, because he is the _devil_.

“Koushi,” Asahi tries again, but this time his head falls back, and he presses into where Suga is groping him. He’s so damn _weak_.

“Come inside?” Koushi asks, voice lilting pleasantly and suggestively and the sound of it alone is enough to make Asahi blush. (If he hadn’t been blushing already.) 

“I’m dirty,” Asahi insists, trying to be rational through the heady feeling that is Suga’s _dastardly_ little fingertips dancing along the fronts of his thighs and his waistband.

“ _Yeah you are,”_ Suga groans, and Asahi wants to laugh because it should sound like bad porn, but he also wants to shiver because it also sounds _good_. What happens is some awkward combination of the two. Suga continues. “You know I like it when you get all greasy and sweaty. You look like you stepped out of some mechanic themed porn magazine.”

Asahi laughs genuinely at that. “Is that even a thing? _Mmhn…”_ He trails off as Suga leans up onto his tiptoes to kiss at the back of his neck.

“I don’t know, but it gets me going.” Suga rolls his hips, and Asahi can feel that he’s not lying. “I just want you to use all those muscles to fucking ravish me.”

“Koushi,” Asahi whispers sharply. His heart swells, but not with embarrassment. With _love_ , ecstatic love, and that deep, dark, primal thing he’s only ever experienced under Suga’s clever hands.

“ _Asahi,”_ Koushi whimpers. He’s playing dirty and he knows it. “Won’t you give it to me? Will you give it to me right here? Bend me over that bike and _take me?_ You could, you know. I couldn’t stop you. I _wouldn’t_ stop you. I want you to make me dirty, too. I want to be able to see _everywhere_ you’ve touched me, made me yours. Do it, Asahi, take me, _please.”_

And that’s Asahi’s breaking point.

He turns around and draws Suga into his arms, claiming his mouth in a rough, fast kiss. Suga sighs into it, makes that little satisfied noise that means he’s gotten what he wanted.

Abruptly, Asahi pushes him away. “Get inside,” he orders. “I’m right behind you.”

“You’d better be,” Koushi says breathlessly, and then scampers into the house. (Asahi notices that he’s wearing his pastel purple chubbies, the ones that hug his ass and expose nearly _all_ of his thighs. If Asahi hadn’t already committed to fucking Suga brainless, he’d call those cheating.)

Suga disappears into the sliding door, and Asahi takes a moment to store his tools and close up the body of the bike. He really should finish what he’s doing, but the shorts had truly crumbled the last of his (world-renowned, probably) weak resolve. He runs his hands through his hair – which is stupid because his hair is a mess and he probably just got more oil in it – and follows Suga inside.

There’s a trail of clothes leading up the stairs and towards the bedroom. One sandal, then the other. Suga’s soft t-shirt. Those infernal shorts. Suga’s briefs (white with little green cacti) lay on the floor just outside the bedroom. Asahi bites his lip around a fond smile.

When he opens the door, his heart stops and his breath catches in his throat. Suga has gotten started without him – his cock is flushed and pink, swelling up and gleaming at the tip in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the window. Suga has bypassed it, though, in favor of teasing his hole with spit slick fingers and pinching his nipples.

Suga hears him enter, opens his eyes, and groans. “Get the fuck over here,” he pleads, _demands_.

“I’ll get the sheets dirty,” Asahi insists as he strips off his grimy work shirt and bends down to wrestle his work boots off.

“They’ll wash up,” Suga says breathlessly as one finger slips into him. “ _Leave those on.”_

Asahi freezes with his fingers on the button fly of his jeans. “My…my pants?” He licks his lips uncertainly.

“Uh-huh,” Suga insists, eyes hazy and lidded. “I wanna feel ‘em when you fuck me.”

Asahi shudders and steps towards the bed, moving to crawl on top of Suga. But Suga says, “No –“ he pushes him back. “Stand – yeah, right there.” Suga, smirking and proudly nude, _crawls off the bed_. He keeps crawling until he’s seated at Asahi’s feet, biting his lip and looking up through his lashes. It’s coy and _obscene._ Asahi bites a knuckle to muffle the strangled moan that escapes him at the sight.

“You don’t have to do that,” Koushi whispers, and Asahi swears he can already feel the heat of Suga’s mouth. “I love hearing you. Your voice is so beautiful, baby.”

Asahi shivers and lowers his hand back to his side. Koushi nuzzles into it at the same moment he places his hands – _delicately¸_ gently, god _damn_ him – on Asahi’s bare hipbones. He presses a few damp kisses up Asahi’s thigh, tongue teasing his skin where the jeans are ripped. (He’s meant to throw these out so many times, but Suga always stops him.) His hands slowly, teasingly, pop the buttons on his jeans, staring up at Asahi and licking his lips the whole time. It’s almost more than he can bear.

And then Suga starts _talking_.

“God, baby, you’re already so hard for me. I love your cock, you know that? It’s fucking distracting. Especially in these _fucking_ jeans.” Suga emphasizes his point by digging his nails into the muscles of Asahi’s ass, _hard_. “They’re so _tight_. They drive me crazy. _You_ drive me crazy _._ You’re so fucking hot… _”_ Suga looks up at him, eyes almost unfocused as he drags his heavy gaze up Asahi’s abs, over his pecs, into his eyes, back down again to his cock. “You’re so fucking built. I love dressing you up and taking you out. The way your shoulders and hips and that ass fill out a suit is a _sin_.” Koushi hums contemplatively as he licks his lips - like a starving dog. “But I like you best like this. Dirty and greasy and sweaty and _wild_. You’re all _mine_ when you’re like this.”  Suga chooses that moment to breathe hotly over Asahi’s cock, which is leaving a damp spot in his underwear. Asahi feels his thighs shake.

Suga drags his fingertips over the wetness, dragging them smoothly over the head of his dick. Asahi’s breath leaves him in a rush, and his fingers tighten in his hair. Asahi whimpers when Koushi’s hands keep _moving_ , sliding around to grab at his ass again, this time underneath the pants.

“I just can’t help myself. Do you have any idea how good you look?” Koushi practically moans, kissing over his clothed cock _over_ and _over_. It’s so gentle and unbearably sweet and _not enough_.

“Koushi, _please_ ,” Asahi tries, biting his lip against the way he desperately wants to thrust his hips forward.

“ _Do_ you?” Koushi continues like he hadn’t heard Asahi’s desperation. “Do you know how fucking crazy you make me, Asahi?”

“Koushi,” Asahi whispers, helplessly, staring down at Suga’s bright beautiful eyes. Eyes that are staring up at him with so much love and so much _lust_ that it leaves him panting and dizzy beneath the weight of it.

“I love you,” Koushi says simply, pressing his lips to the head of Asahi’s cock. Like it’s the easiest thing in the world, like those two things combined won’t break him.

“I love you too,” Asahi gasps back, one hand dropping into Suga’s hair timidly.

“I need you to say you know, Asahi,” Suga purrs, fingertips sliding inside the waistband of his boxers.

“Know _what_?” Asahi says desperately. “I don’t know anything right now.”

Suga has the audacity to smirk. “I need you to know how fucking amazing I think you are.”

“Then stop _teasing_ , please,” Asahi begs petulantly. Asahi bites his lip and groans around another sloppy kiss to his cock through his boxer briefs.

“How can I? When you look so gorgeous like _this?”_ Koushi digs his fingers into the firm muscle of Asahi’s thighs. “You look like you’re about to fucking snap. Like you’re about to lose it, like you’re about to fuck me into the ground. Like you want to _break_ me.”

Asahi’s knees almost give out. “Koushi,” he moans helplessly. He wants to hate how Suga can do this to him, take him apart with nothing but teasing. He wants to hate how easy he is.

But he doesn’t. How can he?

“I _want_ you to,” Koushi carries on, relentless. “I want you so _bad_. Night and day, body and soul, I _want_ you, Asahi. Will you let me show you how much? Will you let me love you? Will you let me _have_ you?”

“Always,” Asahi answers, without hesitation.

Koushi grins up at him. “Good.”

And Asahi finally gets what he wants.

Suga jerks down his underwear and wraps his lips around Asahi’s cock, sucking harshly, swallowing down all the pre-cum that’s been collecting there. Asahi groans and tightens the fist in Koushi’s hair – just a little. It makes Koushi moan and swallow more of his cock. Koushi’s eyes roll as he bats his lashes up at Asahi, which is excessively and unnecessarily _unfair_.  

Suga pops off his cock to simper, “Fuck my face, Asahi?” and then swallows him back down. Asahi is nothing if not a people pleaser, so he drops his other hand to the back of Koushi’s skull to guide him back and forth. It’s obscene, the wet glide, the pale, delicate pink of his lips, the way Koushi’s throat convulses just slightly when Asahi hits the back, his eyelashes fluttering in pleasure.

“Can I – _ngh_ – can I go faster?” Asahi asks selfishly, breathlessly. In answer, Koushi blinks slowly up at him and folds his hands primly behind his back. _“Shit_ ,” Asahi says eloquently as he picks up the pace of his hips. Suga groans as the curse falls from his lips – that’s right, Suga likes that, too.

Might as well try giving him a taste of his own medicine, right?

“Your mouth feels so good,” Asahi whispers, closing his eyes. “So wet, and warm. You’re – you’re being so good for me, letting me take you like this.” He swallows, and peaks down. Suga’s eyes are closed and his eyebrows are drawn together - he almost looks surprised. He focuses on keeping his thrusts even and shallow, threading his fingers through Koushi’s soft hair and stroking his thumb over the little mole next to his eye.

“You look so pretty on your knees for me,” he says, full of confidence he’s shocked to feel. Suga full on moans, vibrating around Asahi’s cock. “You like that?” Asahi teases. “You like me telling you that you’re a pretty - pretty little cockslut?”

Suga’s eyes fly open, and Asahi is scared for a moment that he’s mis-stepped, especially when Suga pushes himself off Asahi’s cock. But then he says, “Fuck me. _Now_. And don’t stop talking.”

Asahi almost laughs, but there isn’t enough air in his lungs. Koushi leans over on the bed, shoving his pert ass in the air, wantonly. “Get me ready?” he asks with a wiggle of his hips, tossing the lube over his shoulder. His cock swings and bounces against the bed.

“Yeah – yeah, okay.” Asahi’s head is spinning. It’s intoxicating, taking control like this. _Talking_ like that. He’s high on it. He tries to focus on lubing up his fingers.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” Koushi whines, writhing into the bed.

“Impatient, are we?” falls out of Asahi’s mouth before he even has to think about it.

“ _Yes_ ,” is the instant reply. “I want your thick cock, baby. I want you to make me _messy_.”

“I will,” Asahi says. He just means that he’s still sweaty and covered in motor oil, but the way Koushi shivers and moans means he took it differently. Asahi swallows. Just as well. He circles his index finger around Suga’s entrance. It’s hot, but not too tight – his finger slides in easily.

“ _Yessss_ ,” Koushi hisses.

“That feel good, baby?” Asahi asks, pressing his lips to Koushi’s ear.

“Yeah – _yeah_ it feels good _daddy_ ,” Koushi whines, tossing a playful grin over his shoulder.

Asahi smirks back. “Is that how you want it? You want _daddy_ to fuck you hard?”

Koushi laughs as Asahi slides another finger in and rubs over his prostate. “Yeah – yeah, Asahi, please.”

“I will, baby. You’re gonna feel so good.”

“I already feel _amazing_ ,” Koushi whispers, dropping his face into the mattress. The freckles on his shoulders are highlighted by the way he’s flushed from his ears down to his back. “Your fingers are so – _oh_! _Aah!_ ” Asahi drives his fingers against the little nub inside roughly. He leans down to suck a hickey into Suga’s ass, the soft flesh feeling _incredible_ as the tender skin reddens and bruises under his teeth. Suga keens, loud and helpless.

“You sound so pretty for me,” Asahi tells him, just to watch him squirm. “Gonna sound even better when I fuck you.”

Asahi can hardly believe the things coming out of his mouth, but it feels _good_. It feels even better to see and feel Koushi reacting beneath him. He drops a little more lube onto his hand, and starts to slowly – slowly – slowly tease Suga with a third finger.

Koushi groans and takes the sheets between his teeth. He looks wantonly over his shoulder at Asahi. Normally, Asahi would swear he’s faking it to rile him up, but Koushi looks fucking _gone_. Wrecked and desperate and just about literally _gagging for it_. His legs are shaking where he’s holding himself up, and every thrust of Asahi’s fingers makes him moan. The sunlight hits his skin and makes it glisten and glow where he’s sweating, which is essentially everywhere. Asahi slides his other hand down Suga’s back, and Suga arches into it, another wild sound escaping him.

“Feel good?” Asahi whispers, unable to help himself. Koushi just lets out a little wounded mewl in response. His eyes roll, unfocused, as Asahi wriggles all three fingers seated inside him around the rim, stretching him just that little bit further. Asahi tears his eyes away from the sexed-up angel beneath him to eye the bedside table.

“Baby, should I wear a condom?” Asahi asks, pitching his voice low and trying to sound neutral.

He needn’t have been so careful. He and Koushi are definitely on the same page.

“ _No_ ,” he says forcefully, eyes lighting up as he comes back to himself a little. He smirks as he says, “Wanna feel it when you fill me up, _daddy_.”

Koushi’s clear, sweet laugh rings out as Asahi groans and reaches for the lube to slick himself. “You’re awful," Asahi growls as he pops the cap on the lube to slick himself.

“Then you’d better _punish_ me,” Koushi replies, throwing his hips back expertly.

Asahi just laughs as he carefully removes his fingers. “Yeah, sure,” he laughs flippantly as he lines up. “You good?”

 _“Yes_ ,” Koushi moans, fisting the sheets. “ _Yesyesyesyesyes.”_

Asahi wipes his lube-y hand on the sheets – they’re gonna get trashed anyway, right? – and grabs Suga’s hips. “Make sure I can hear you, baby,” he purrs, right into Koushi’s ear, as he slides all the way in, in one smooth thrust.

Suga _howls_. That’s about the only word for it. He claws the sheets, reaches back to grasp Asahi’s hair, and thrusts wildly against the mattress. Asahi tightens his grip on his hips, forcing him still. “Let me do it, baby,” he whispers, throat tight at how _fucking amazing_ Koushi feels viced around him.

“Then _do it_ , Asahi, _please_ ,” Koushi begs. Flat out _begs_.

Who is Asahi to deny him?

He starts a rough rhythm, rough enough that Koushi actually bounces off the bed with every thrust. Koushi isn’t complaining about it – he’s moaning even louder, broken, wordless noises that get punched out of him every time Asahi sinks in.

“Everyone is gonna hear you getting fucked,” Asahi says, breathlessly. He shifts his grip so he’s holding Suga down by his wrists. He’s so _tight_.

“ _Good_ ,” he chokes out, thrusting his hips back wildly. “I want them to. I want them to know how good you are, how fucking good your cock feels inside me.” Koushi just keeps talking, words flowing out of him seamlessly and riling Asahi up more with every _syllable_. “ _Fuck_ you’re so big. I want you to fuck me _forever_ , I want to live on your dick, _Asahi.”_

Asahi almost says something like _That’s impractical_ , but he (barely) restrains himself. He occupies his mouth by sucking a mark onto those freckles he _adores_ on Koushi’s shoulder. He feels _wild_ , out of control, blood singing through his veins. He shifts his grip again, leaning down and wrapping his arms around Koushi’s waist and grinding his hips in a slow, deep circle. The buttons of his jeans dig into his skin, which means they’re digging into Suga, too.

“Like that, baby? Like it when daddy fucks you good and deep?”

 _“Ah! Ah,_ yes _! Yeesss!”_

“You’re gonna be all dirty, baby. You’re gonna be such a fucking mess when I’m done with you.” Asahi sucks a dark, _dark_ hickey into Suga’s neck, while Suga _screams_ and _writhes_ underneath him.

“Yes – oh, _daddy_ , please!” Koushi gets out, hips rutting back onto Asahi’s cock and down onto the done-for sheets.

Asahi gets a hand into Koushi’s hair, pulling just a little, so he can get Koushi’s face out of the mattress. “That’s it, baby, sing for me,” Asahi growls, giving it to him _hard_ and _deep_ and _fast_.

And Koushi _sings_. A chorus, a fucking symphony of the most beautiful noises Asahi has ever heard. Time has stopped, for them. The earth has stopped turning and the only ones who don’t know it are Asahi Asahi and Sugawara Koushi, because they are in love and they need this extra time, this stolen hour, to prove it to the universe. Or maybe the earth stopped turning to watch them, to watch them love each other into oblivion, because maybe this is the culmination of human history. It goddamn could be. Asahi feels powerful and vibrant and beautiful in a way he never has before.

Suddenly, he remembers Koushi’s words from before. _I need you to know how fucking amazing I think you are_. Asahi _feels_ amazing. He feels _worthy_ of Sugawara Koushi calling him amazing, which is fucking stupefying and terrifying and intoxicating. He wants Koushi to feel that way, too.

So he keeps fucking him. And he keeps talking. 

“ _God_ I love you,” he whispers fiercely, dragging Koushi by his hair so that he’s arced off the mattress, so Asahi can press the words into his ear, into the soft skin of his neck. “I fucking love you so much. You’re so beautiful – I’d die without you – I can’t _believe_ I have you.”

“ _Asahi,”_ Koushi whimpers, sounding like he’s on the verge of tears.

Asahi’s throat tightens in sympathy but he doesn’t let up. “You make me _so. Much. Better,”_ he grits out, punctuating each word with a hard thrust. “You make me so much _more_ , Koushi. I love you, I _love_ you.”

And Koushi _is_ crying now, gasping and rutting into the mattress. “Fuck – I fucking love you too, Asahi,” Koushi gets out, between hitching breaths and sobs. “Fuck – fuck – _fuck,_ I’m gonna cum!”

“What do you need?” Asahi whispers, licking a filthy path up Suga’s neck and over his ear. He’s nearly gone to the pleasure, to the insane splendor that is Koushi’s ass. 

“Just­ – _harder,_ ” Koushi begs.

“You got it, baby,” Asahi promises, pulling back to lean onto his hands so he can get better leverage to thrust into Suga.

Who has gotten his wish. He’s _filthy;_ there’s sweat and dirt and hickies and lube and _motor oil_ all over him, all over the bed too. Maybe Koushi was onto something – Asahi feels like he’s marked him, taken him, _claimed_ him, by making a mess all over his body. Asahi sucks another hickey onto Suga’s neck, just because he can.

Koushi is fucking _beautiful_ when he comes.

He’s always beautiful, but there’s something ethereal about the way he looses himself. Something simultaneously elegant and animalistic in the way his back arches, his mouth _o_ ’s, the quaking of every muscle in his body as he comes undone. Tears leak out of his eyes as he shudders into oblivion, and Asahi is just as entranced as he was the first time he was privileged to see it. He slows his thrusts a little, gives Koushi a break and lets himself indulge in the sight of Koushi writhing under him.

The orgasm doesn’t seem to end, though. It keeps cresting and building, falling and rising again. “Koushi?” He receives a broken moan and a desperate hand groping for his.

 _“Did you come?”_ Suga asks raggedly. 

Asahi swallows, pressing his sweaty forehead to Koushi’s sweaty back. “Not yet.”

“What do you want?” Koushi asks, eyes blearily opening and searching for Asahi’s.

Asahi licks his lips, considering his options quickly. “Turn over? I want to hold you.”

Koushi looks winded at the mere suggestion, but then bites his lip and scoots forward so Asahi slips out of him. They both groan, but Suga just looks determined. He flips over onto his back, beckoning Asahi closer with impatient gestures and sounds.

Asahi crawls over him, and is just fucking stunned by how goddamn _pretty_ he is. The sun seems to be setting specifically with the curve of Koushi’s neck and the fall of his hair in mind.

“I love you,” Koushi says again as Asahi lines up to bury himself inside once more.

“I love you,” Asahi whispers back as he pushes forward.

Koushi’s orgasm has dampened his volume, but not his sensitivity or his enthusiasm. Every thrust earns Asahi a whispered _oh_ , an _ah_ , a whine, a gorgeous little mewl, a litany of beautiful, stunning, precious sounds that Asahi will cherish forever. He can’t tear his eyes away from Koushi’s face, vulnerable and honest and blissed out like Asahi has never seen it. Or never _appreciated_ it, maybe. A fucking crime, which he will never commit again.

Koushi’s arms and legs are wrapped tight around him, giving him the leverage he needs to thrust. They’re bouncing up the bed with every thrust, so Asahi wraps his arms around Koushi again, holding him tight, and frees himself completely to the _rapture_ , lets himself be utterly taken away and _consumed_ by his love.

And that – the sweeping realization of the _depth_ of his adoration, the grand scale, the cosmic size of it– that is what brings him to orgasm. He presses his forehead to Suga’s neck, inhaling the smell of his skin and his sweat and their mess, and whispers, “I’m coming.”

“ _Please_ , Asahi,” Koushi replies fervently.

Asahi does Koushi tells him, as always.

He sees fucking _stars_ , and the sound that escapes him almost hurts his throat. He can’t stop his hips from thrusting all the way through it, and he can feel every pulse that spills deep into Koushi. His orgasm draws on forever, lingering and stretching, tension growing and growing – and finally, _finally_ snapping, leaving him with no option but collapse.

His chest is heaving in time with Koushi’s. Drunkenly, they seek each other’s lips. It’s so messy, and wet, tongues sliding hotly over and around and into each other’s mouths. Asahi groans into it, finding ecstasy even in this.

He’s not sure how long that lasts. All he knows is that suddenly, he’s aware he’s still gasping even though his heart has stopped pounding in his ears. His thighs are burning, and there’s a sticky mess on his stomach. His skin is prickly with drying sweat, and his jeans are too tight around his hips. The sharp tang of motor oil teases his nose, but that’s only a hint of the absolutely foul bouquet the two of them have created. 

Asahi grins, fiercely. He kisses the side of Koushi’s neck, over and over and over again, smiling all the while.

“I love you,” Koushi whispers, sounding almost delirious.

“I love you,” Asahi whispers fiercely, pulling back to say it directly to Koushi’s face. “I love you so, _so_ much, Koushi.”

Koushi meets his gaze and swallows. “Yeah?” he says, uncertainly.

Asahi leans down to press their foreheads together. “ _Yeah._ ” He scrunches his face up. “But my legs hurt. I gotta pull out, okay?”

Suga laughs and pulls his knees up a little. “Yeah, but be careful – you really gave it to me, huh?”

“Are you okay?” Asahi frowns, worry working up his throat.

Suga chuckles through his nose. “Yeah, yeah – but you’re gonna have to carry me everywhere tonight – _uuugh.”_ His sentence is punctuated by a groan as Asahi pulls out slowly and flops down next to him.

“That’s doable,” Asahi teases, “as soon as I can feel my legs.”

Silence. Still, pure, awe-full silence. The universe is still watching them, waiting for them to have their moment, content to be at a standstill until the two of them are ready to rejoin it. 

Slowly, the sounds of the outside world make it to them. A passing car. A sprinkler down the block. A few early cicadas.

Asahi props himself up on an elbow to look down at Suga, who looks back at him with so much tenderness that Asahi could cry, if he wanted. Or fuck the brains out of him again. Whichever.

“Hey,” Asahi whispers.

A slow, easy smile spreads across Koushi’s face, which Asahi feels himself returning without deciding to. “Hey,” he whispers back.

“That was…” Asahi bites at the inside of his lip, trying to decide how to phrase it. “That was…something, wasn’t?”

“It sure was,” Suga purrs, rolling his hips sinuously.

Asahi laughs, but persists. “Yeah, but that’s not what I meant. I mean…” He frowns. The words won’t come.

Koushi reaches for his hand. “I know. And it.” He swallows, flipping from boasting and confident to shy in an instant. “It was. It was…something.”

Asahi’s throat feels tight. Tight and full, and his eyes almost water. Koushi’s get a little red, but they’re both too tired to cry with any real force behind it.

“So,” Asahi says, before they both start blubbering, because that would be the whole night, really. “Dinner?”

Suga _smiles_  up at him, exultant and beautiful and _his_. “Sounds good to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, leave me a comment and tell me why! I'm hamletsprozac on tumblr, come say hi there too


End file.
